


New Roots, New Hopes

by Shadaras



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: A Slow (Mostly Off-Screen) Slide into Polyamory, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff, Kidfic, M/M, Multi, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27269233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/pseuds/Shadaras
Summary: Obi-Wan agrees to take both twins to Alderaan, and stays to raise them with Bail and Breha.Somehow, he doesn't expect to get a family in the bargain.
Relationships: Bail Organa/Breha Organa, Bail Organa/Breha Organa/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 98
Collections: Fic In A Box





	New Roots, New Hopes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skatzaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatzaa/gifts).



1.

The twins were asleep in their crib, a medical droid sagging next to them on standby, ready to activate at the slightest sign of discomfort. Obi-Wan watched them nonetheless; no matter how good the droid was, they were still human. He didn’t touch them, because he didn’t want to disturb them when they seemed so peaceful. Space travel agreed with them, it seemed; they hadn’t slept so easily on the station.

Obi-Wan’s eyes kept sliding closed as he waited for Bail. The twins not sleeping well meant that neither of them had been sleeping well either. Now that Luke and Leia had finally succumbed to the soothing hum of space, Obi-Wan wanted nothing more than to follow them into dreams. But Bail was on a secure comm line with Breha (at Obi-Wan’s insistence, though he knew Bail had wanted to call her regardless), giving her an update on their safety and travel plans, and Obi-Wan didn’t want to fall asleep until he knew what she’d had to say.

Finally, the door hissed open, and Obi-Wan looked up to see Bail—obviously just as exhausted as Obi-Wan himself, but hiding it somewhat better—enter. Bail smiled at him briefly, then went to look into the crib. Obi-Wan could feel him relax at how peaceful the twins were, and held his tongue until Bail turned away and met his eyes.

“How is she?” Obi-Wan asked, pushing himself more upright on the shuttle’s bench.

Bail collapsed next to him, keeping the automatic careful distance they were used to preserving in public. “She’s glad to hear that we’re all safe. And she agreed, just as I told you she would.”

“I didn’t doubt you.” Obi-Wan sighed and rubbed at his face, some of the tension in his back finally easing. “I’m glad.”

“We all needed something to go the way we expected, today.” Bail touched Obi-Wan’s shoulder gently. “I’m glad you’re coming with us.”

Obi-Wan laughed, but he didn’t shift away from Bail’s touch. He used to, back at the senate; there were too many prying eyes, too many regulations that Master Kenobi had to adhere to. They couldn’t afford rumours about a Jedi Master favoring any specific senator. (Obi-Wan couldn’t allow himself to think about Padmé, and all the rules—stated or implied—which Anakin had broken for her.) Here, on a shuttle carefully free of any monitoring devices—

They were alone, and he was very tired, and so Obi-Wan allowed himself to savor the contact. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Alderaan.”

“Breha misses you too.” Bail’s hand was warm, and its weight was soothing. “Though she wishes it hadn’t taken such dramatic circumstances to bring you back to us.”

“There was a war.” Obi-Wan gave into his desire for the simplest human comfort and slid sideways on the padded bench until his side pressed against Bail’s. Before the war had gotten so bad, they’d sat like this every few weeks as they debated politics and policies, or discussed the latest novels they’d both read, or simply played board games together in relative silence. “And now…”

Bail sighed, and slid his arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders. He’d always been more comfortable with touch; the Jedi Temple discouraged casual touch, mostly because a cluster of Force users tended to bleed emotions through their touch when they were young and untrained. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience. “Things have changed.”

Obi-Wan nestled against him and closed his eyes for what felt like the first time in a week. Everything still ached, but the calm beat of Bail’s heart steadied him. “At least some of these changes will be for the better.”

“Is that the Force telling you so, or simply hope?”

“Is hope not enough?”

Bail chuckled and squeezed him in a sideways hug. “Sleep, Obi-Wan. I’ll watch over the twins.”

Obi-Wan hummed, and settled closer still. If Bail had meant for him to sleep in the shuttle’s cabin, he didn’t say anything. Indeed, Bail’s head leaned against Obi-Wan’s. The Force thrummed around them, and Obi-Wan finally relaxed. He trusted Bail, and the Force thrummed approval at their closeness and mutual comfort.

As he fell asleep, Obi-Wan heard Bail start singing. He didn’t listen for the words, but he recognised it as a lullabye nonetheless.

His last thought before sleep claimed him was wondering if Bail sang that song for the infants, or for him.

2.

Breha waited at the palace’s private spaceport, watching the sky impatiently. The flight plan Bail had sent her, the one time they’d risked contact, indicated that they should be arriving shortly. Despite all the potential for delays—both Obi-Wan and Bail had an unfortunate habit of running into danger when it presented itself—she still had faith that, especially in this case, they would put all their energy towards arriving as quickly as they could.

“My queen,” one of her myriad guards said, breaking the silence. Breha turned to her, eyebrows already raised in question. The guard—Yvene Arriez, Breha belatedly remembered—saluted her, then showed her a datapad. “An unidentified shuttle broadcasting priority signals entered the far satellite orbit. Your orders?”

She glanced at the signal, decoding the pattern with ease. Her heart sped up, and she smiled at Yvene. “Allow them to land at this platform with all reasonable speed. I’ve been waiting for them.”

Yvene bowed, too well-trained to pry any further, and quickly transmitted her orders to the squadrons keeping guard in orbit. Breha turned back to the balcony, hands tight on the railing as she calculated how long it would take for the shuttle to come in. An hour, two at most, she thought; she had cleared her schedule for the whole afternoon, just in case, and was relieved to know that choice had paid off.

She rarely used the power she was entrusted with for her own benefit. There were too many factions on Alderaan, and while her status as Queen meant she theoretically stood above all of them, Breha knew how fragile that illusion was. If she announced that she had taken the afternoon off because her beloved had returned from Coruscant and she needed the reassurance of seeing him, they would understand; war had taken its toll on everyone, and news of the Senate crumbling had long since made its way to Alderaan.

If, however, she announced she was waiting for her consort to return with twins they were adopting— Breha shook her head. She didn’t want those rumours to begin spreading any sooner than absolutely necessary.

An hour or two was, however, too long to stand here without doing any work. Breha breathed, feeling the familiar buzz-pulse her artificial organs when she was too stressed, and forced herself to calm down. She could wait, and her duty to her people continued regardless. Breha called for the assistant who always hovered nearby—Elia Vance was on-duty today—and asked her to bring a portable workstation. 

She didn’t try to do any complex work while waiting for the shuttle (updated information told her its callsign was _Nightbird’s Song_ ). The most she expected of herself was organizing messages and prioritizing the work that only she could do. The rest, Breha delegated to various counselors and committees. It was important but time-consuming work, even though endless rounds of secretaries had already filtered out the ones that need not reach her eyes at all.

When at last the sound of engines roared overhead, Breha shut down the workstation without a second thought and left it for Elia and the other palace workers to remove. _Nightbird’s Song_ settled onto the protected landing pad just as Breha stepped out of the palace-side entry. It took only a moment more for the hatch to open and the ramp to descend, and Breha waited at the end of the ramp, hands clasped tightly behind her back as she waited for her eyes to confirm what her heart already knew.

Bail swept down the ramp with his arms already extended towards her. Breha fell into his embrace, letting her body reassure her that he was still whole and hale and hearty, and said, “I’m glad you made it home.”

“It’s not just me.” Bail kissed her forehead, and then gently pulled back. He kept one arm around her, and Breha leaned into his touch thankfully as she looked back up the ramp.

Two more figures started down, both familiar to Breha. Obi-Wan Kenobi, regal as ever in Jedi robes (he would need to shed them soon, if he meant it when he said he’d stay with them; they were too identifiable), and a medical droid. Obi-Wan’s head was bent down towards the two tiny infants swaddled in his arms, and Breha found herself saying, “Are those—”

“Yours, now.” Obi-Wan looked up at her and smiled. “This is their first time on a planet.”

Breha stepped forward, meeting Obi-Wan as he stepped onto the landing pad, and laid her hand on his arm. “Thank you for bringing them to us,” she said, looking down at their fragile heads. “They seem to like you.”

“The Force is strong in them,” Obi-Wan said, quietly enough that Breha didn’t think anyone else—even the medical droid currently fussing over supplies that had to be for little Luke and Leia three paces away—would be able to hear. “They can feel it in me, too, and it soothes them.”

Breha smiled up at Obi-Wan. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were deeper, and new ones had appeared on his forehead, but he was still a beautiful man. She patted his cheek and said, “Then I’m sure you’ll be their favorite parent.”

“I—” Obi-Wan stepped back, eyes wide. “Breha, you can’t mean that.”

“Did Bail not tell you?” She turned to look at her husband, who was already raising his hands defensively. “We _discussed_ this, Bail.”

“And we’ll continue discussing it,” Bail said. He turned slightly to address Obi-Wan instead. “We have no intention of treating your role in Luke and Leia’s life as any less than ours. You can be their father Ben, if you wish to be.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, still seemed more confused than anything, and Breha took pity on him. “Since my wonderful husband didn’t see fit to _warn_ you, we will discuss this later. Come, help us get them settled—I haven’t made any formal announcements, but the palace rumour mill is very excited that I seem to be taking an interest in items needed for childcare.”

“Are they at least talking about adoption this time?” Bail asked as Breha led them through private halls. The ever-present palace workers in these areas were already sworn to secrecy about their personal lives. While Breha was certain that Bail’s return would be public knowledge by the end of the day, at least Luke and Leia’s presence would remain rumour until they could make an announcement of their own.

“Thankfully so.” Breha opened the door into their private chambers, and even the most trusted servants peeled away. Only her family—and the medical droid, which she trusted both men had already ensured was safe—remained. Breha led Obi-Wan in herself, gently pushing him down into a soft chair as soon as she could. “Ben?” she asked, glancing between the men.

“My name is too well-known,” Obi-Wan answered, leaning back and closing his eyes. The twins shifted on his chest, but didn’t wake. “Ben’s an old nickname. It’s associated with a few undercover identities, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Are you keeping Kenobi?” Breha shooed Bail into a chair as well when he tried to help the droid arrange things. From how easily Bail went, they were both exhausted; she may as well put the extra energy her anxiety had created to use.

Obi-Wan sighed. “I think so, but please don’t ask me to make any decisions until I’ve slept.”

Breha patted his shoulder as she passed, and then paused with surprise as he leaned into the touch. She knew he liked physical affection more than he usually let on, but even tired this was more than he usually let himself show. “There are plenty of people who can help keep them safe now,” she said softly. “You can rest for a while.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Obi-Wan yawned. His eyes cracked open just enough to smile up at her. “It’s good to have a home.”

Before Breha could think of a way to respond, he was already asleep.

3.

Three months after Breha and Bail announced their adoption of the twins Luke and Leia, the news started making jokes about how your name had to begin with a _B_ to be part of the royal family. Ben Kenobi (no relation to the famous general, as best reporters could tell) was seen with the babies at least as much as their adopted parents, and neither Queen nor Consort treated him as a babysitter or nurse.

Bail thought it was hilarious, even as Obi-Wan—Bail couldn’t get himself to think of the man as Ben consistently, no matter how much he knew he should—shied away from the attention and preferred staying in the isolation of the palace nursery. Breha didn’t seem to notice, but she had been raised among politics and certainly had a better sense for what she could ignore than he did.

“You won’t be able to stay hidden forever,” Bail said, on one of the evenings Breha forcefully protected for their family to gather uninterrupted. He moved his piece on the dejarik board, where he was currently losing, and hoped that Obi-Wan would be too distracted to take advantage of the opening he knew he was creating. He didn’t have a better choice to try and retake the advantage, though.

Obi-Wan sighed as he studied the board. “I don’t need to stay hidden forever. I just need to stay hidden long enough for people to forget what their war hero looked like.”

“Will two years be enough?” Breha asked, from where she sat nursing the twins. “By the time they’re toddlers, they’ll need more playmates and schooling.”

“Unless Palpatine reminds people of my face, it should be.” Obi-Wan tapped his own piece forward, attacking exactly the weak point Bail had hoped he’d ignore. “Or I could shave my beard.”

Bail winced. “You don’t need to.”

“I like your beard,” Breha said, almost at the same time.

Obi-Wan laughed. “Thank you for your votes of confidence.”

“Will they be able to control the Force by then?” Bail prodded one of his two remaining pieces forward, trying to draw out his defeat. “I know it shows early, but I don’t know how early.”

“I hope so.” Obi-Wan idly started surrounding Bail’s pieces. “Otherwise we might have some trouble. But that’s why I’m spending time with them—the Force calls to itself. The Jedi creches drew out active use of the Force in a way that Force-sensitives dwelling on their own might never notice. Instinct is one thing. Any Force-sensitive will call upon it to make snap decisions and quicken their reflexes. Actively using it takes familiarity.”

“You’ll teach them.” Breha said it as a fact, even though Bail didn’t think they’d talked about it at all yet.

Obi-Wan turned and smiled at her. “There are many other places in the galaxy where I could do good. The Jedi Order may shatter, but I do not want to abandon my pledge to its ideals.” His gaze fixed on Luke and Leia’s little bodies. “I choose to prioritize teaching those who could have been part of the Order. The more Force-users there are who understand the core Jedi teachings, the more effective I believe efforts to overturn this new Empire will be.”

Bail met Breha’s eyes, and she nodded at him slightly. He took a deep breath, then asked, “Do you think there are other survivors?”

Obi-Wan looked down at his hands. “I have to believe so. I left a message for them, asking them to do essentially the same thing I’m doing.”

“Starting a family?” Bail teased, and was rewarded by Obi-Wan’s crinkle-eyed smile. “I shouldn’t imagine many of them chose this route.”

“Staying out of the way, finding a new identity.” Obi-Wan absently made his final move on the dejarik board, clearing Bail from the game. “Protecting and teaching any younglings they may encounter.”

+1

“Dad!” Leia yelled, running into Obi-Wan’s courtyard garden. “Mama and Papa said that you’d take us camping!”

“Good afternoon,” Obi-Wan said dryly, looking up from his weeding. It had taken most of the eight years he’d spent on Alderaan for him to get used to having time purely to relax. This garden, which he’d designed and maintained himself in the style of the Jedi Temple’s meditation halls, was the result of his partners forcing him to take up a hobby. “I take it you both performed well on your exams?”

Luke, trailing bare steps behind Leia but much quieter, nodded vigorously as Leia jumped onto the central fountain, balancing easily on the basin’s edge. “Tutor Pylapiana said we did exceptionally, and they’re very proud of us.” Luke crouched down next to Obi-Wan, digging his fingers into the damp earth. “Mama and Papa thought we should wait until dinner to tell you, but Leia didn’t want to wait.”

“Did you want to wait?” Obi-Wan picked up the weeds and carried them over to his compost heap by hand. When he was alone, he often used the Force, but he refused to model such a reliance on the Force for his children-padawans. The line, often blurred even in the Jedi Order, had become yet more muddled by the Organas. However, he couldn’t bring himself to mind when his children were so bright and eager to learn.

“I didn’t,” Luke admitted, trailing behind him with another few weeds he’d already plucked. “But Mama and Papa usually have reasons when they ask us to wait.”

“They just wanted Dad to have some alone time,” Leia called. “Didn’t they say that?”

“They did _not_.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, tossing the weeds. “Leia, we’ve talked about shielding. I know you want to be the best politician and spy, but you can’t just read people’s minds.”

“It’s not _intentional_ ,” Leia grumbled. She had the grace to look ashamed, which Obi-Wan was thankful for. “It’s just floating there, right at the surface.”

“That’s why we’re going camping.” Obi-Wan settled onto the low stone bench he’d spent months carefully working. He wanted his garden to look as natural as possible while being as comfortable as possible, and he had been encouraged to take as much time as he needed in pursuit of that goal. “You need a chance to practice, far from prying eyes.”

“It’s a secret,” Luke muttered, sitting on his normal spot as Leia leapt too-lightly down from the fountain and joined them. “We can’t let anyone know.”

“Exactly.” Obi-Wan looked at them, at their bright eyes and easy smiles, and remembered all the younglings he’d known. These two were different in many ways, but their dedication and talent was no less. “We’re going to Istabith Falls.”

Luke perked up immediately. “Isn’t that where you and Mama and Papa went last year on your anniversary?”

“It is.” The trip had been cut short by galactic politics, but even having two days to themselves had been a gift. Obi-Wan shook himself out of fond memory and told the twins, “It’s a beautiful place, and small enough that your Mama can ensure we have the place to ourselves for a week.”

The twins immediately started barraging him with questions, and Obi-Wan laughed easily and freely. “We’ll tell you more at dinner!” he said, once he had a twin on each side asking overlapping questions into his ears. “Since you’re here, scamps, help me finish weeding and pruning!”

They did, scattering across the garden to follow—and, often, anticipate—Obi-Wan’s instructions. He smiled at them, his heart warm and full in a way he never would have expected all those long hard years ago. He had a family, and they were happy, and Obi-Wan was grateful that he’d let Bail and Breha convince him to stay.


End file.
